


You Have No Choice

by Propernicethat



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Adult Diapers, Amputation, Amputee, Forced Ejaculation, Forced Piss Drinking, Forced dependance, Humiliation, Limb removal, M/M, Medical Kink, ProperNiceThatsFeralRedSniper, Scratching, Small Penis, Stockholm Syndrome, Verbal Abuse, Wetting, sedatives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 16:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2818058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Propernicethat/pseuds/Propernicethat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Blu Heavy is captured by the sadistic Red Medic and Sniper and is at their mercy. When he finds out all his limbs are removed, he is forced to depend on the two all the while being subjected to humiliating procedures. </p><p>As with all of my work, please check the tags, dubious content ahead, you've been warned.</p><p>This was a commission for a user who wished to remain anonymous! I'm going to enjoy this!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Amputation

The Blu Heavy was in trouble. Two days ago he’d been with his comrades, fighting along side them and effortlessly taking down the Red’s defences and winning the war for the moment. As they’d trailed back to their base, congratulating one another, he’d heard a soft sound of pain and had followed it. The Heavy walked carefully down the path which was coated in shattered glass only to find what appeared to be the Red Medic. He was curled up, holding his middle, glasses tilted and his body trembling as he whimpered in pain. Instincts told him to put him out of his misery or better yet, turn away, but something else caused him to lift the distressed man up. Holding him to his chest, he’d turn back towards his base, but it had been then that the gunshot was heard and before he knew it, he toppled to the floor, dropping the Medic and falling into unconsciousness.

When he awoke he realised it was very cold. He groaned as his vision returned to him, realising he was in the med bay, however something was very wrong. The walls were white, but the trims and rafters were painted red and soon, in horror, it occurred to him, he wasn’t in his own team’s company at all.

“Ahh..guten tag~ Sorry for that, you’ve been out a while!”

He could hear the sounds of doves cooing softly above him, this Medic no different from his own he could imagine, which also meant that that the softly spoken German man would also be just as sadistic. 

“Why am I here?”

The Heavy questioned, still looking around the room in confusion, realising now he was tied down to the wall behind him, upright. He looked the Medic over, the man looked in good shape and wasn’t at all the same shivering, injured mess the Russian had seen just a few days before. He opened his mouth to ask again due to his words being lost in the silence when he heard a cough, somebody else was in the room and he was clearing his throat.

“You, big man, are a present from me.”

Came the Australian accent as the Sniper stepped out from the shadows. This wasn’t just any old Sniper though, oh no. With that tasselled, leather sleeved shirt, those darkened, sleep deprived, red eyes and that sadistic sneer spread across his lips, the Blu Heavy immediately knew who this was. That deranged, infamous Red Sniper. 

“Administrator doesn’t like that me and the Fritz here don’t get on, so when I saw you about to take him off to be slaughtered, I did him a favour and shot you down first, mate.”

He edged closer, the fella smelt of a stomach churning cocktail of booze and piss, and his breath wasn’t much better when he leaned in to lick the Heavy’s exposed nipple. Wait? Exposed? The Heavy looked down and realised that his huge frame was completely naked. He shivered in realisation as the cold air hit his form, causing him to begin pulling at the steel restraints holding him, but it was no use. 

“Then as a team bonding exercise we thought we’d have you as a little project.”

Spoke the Medic, who was cleaning some tools off to the side, raising a bone saw in order to look into his own reflection. Much to his horror the reflection also caught the activity in the rafters above and behind him. Sir. HootsALot had his talons imbedded into a pinned down dove, and was currently yanking the dead bird’s head up, ripping flesh from bone effortlessly. The Medic frowned, quickly lowering the saw down and turning to the naked Heavy.

“You’re ours.”

He spoke, while lifting a large square mirror from his stand, bringing it over to the Heavy who stared in horror. He was only tied down by his neck and middle, because his arms and legs were no longer there, replaced with bandaged stumps. The huge Russian screamed.


	2. Itch

The Blu Heavy eventually awoke. He groaned, his cheek pressed to a luxuriously soft blanket, which he nuzzled, mentally clinging desperately onto any form of comfort. As he moved his shoulder the sick realisation hit him, turning his horrified gaze to the bandaged stump to his left, remembering his predicament immediately. The Russian was lying in a large nest of blankets in the corner of what he could only describe as an extremely large dog cage. There was a metal tray beneath him, which was covered in more blankets, a water dish off to the side. He looked out though the bars, some curtains closed in front, obscuring his location, a soft groan escaped him, flinching before shouting out. 

“Little man will suffer for this!”

He tried to sit up, falling forward on his face, struggling to lift up his huge gut with the stumps that remained of his legs. He winced as spiteful pinches hit his wounds, stinging as the flesh was healing over, his body lowering to lie down on his belly into the blankets once more. Around his neck was a thick brown collar, which when he lifted his head or tilted his neck back, cut into his bare skin uncomfortably. He pushed his face against the bars, bashing his forehead against them to make as much noise as possible as he roared angrily at his cruel predicament. If they could get him to a respawn, no doubt his limbs would grow back but the Heavy was clueless as to where he was. He didn’t even hear the practically silent movement behind the curtains, neither did he see the barrel of the rifle poke out between the sheets, it was only when the dart was imbedded into his flesh did he cry out, throwing his shoulder up as an instinctive movement, if he’d still had a hand he’d have grabbed the dart and pulled it out, instead he just rammed his shoulder against the bars until the needle dislodged. 

“Already in your system mate.”

Came the Sniper’s voice, the Medic stepping in as he drew the curtains back, revealing himself and the Australian beside him. The Heavy produced another shout, which pleased the German to no end as he approached the cage for a closer look at his new pet. 

“Don’t be such a baby, it’ll just sedate you enough that you wont be able to attack me.”

“Attack you? No arms! Little man took hands AND feet!”

He shouted, already feeling his body relaxing, his head lowering to the soft blanket as he lay on his side, he watched with those gentle grey eyes as the Medic unlocked his cage. The barred door was on wheels, the German pushed it along to the side in order to open up the huge cage, moving inside and lowering himself to roll the huge Russian onto his back with a grunt, the Heavy being a dead weight thanks to the sedatives. 

“Looks like someone needs a change.”

He cooed, his tone a cruel cocktail of both kindness and patronisation as he lowered a hand to the front of the Heavy’s crotch. He lazily lowered his gaze, following the Medic’s and staring in horror at the padding around his crotch. He was in a diaper, a very padded one at that and he groaned in misery as the Medic removed the snap ties at the Russian’s hips, pulling the front away from his crotch. The Russian’s cheeks flushed and he turned his head, closing his eyes tightly as he whimpered in humiliation. 

“..Let me go, they will find me.”

He whined, shocked the words came so pathetically to his own ears, jolting when he felt the gloved hand, which rubbed his cock.

“Turns out you have that big gun for a reason.”

“Overcompensating perhaps?”

The Australian and the German bantered back and forth, both staring at the tiny cock between the huge Russian’s thighs. The Medic flicked it before grasping the tiny head between his index finger and thumb, laughing.

“So pathetic and small, how awful.”

“Bet you can’t even see it under that lard of yours.”

The Australian stepped into the cage, he had in his hand something the Medic had given him to fill earlier. It was a feeding bottle, most often used for baby cows and sheep, a rubber nipple at the top to suckle and this particular bottle was full of prime piss. He knelt beside the Heavy who had no choice but to lie there as the Medic pulled the huge diaper out from under him, he managed a pathetic whimper, out of character for him but he was frightened and uncomfortable. He just wanted to go home, to go to war, to see Sasha again. He felt the Medic’s hands all over him, smearing a jelly over his vulnerable frame, which caused him to squirm and tremble, it was heating his skin up, causing immediate discomfort.

“We wouldn’t want you to go numb or loose touch with your senses due to your missing limbs, this gel is just reminding you that you’re alive~”

It seemed sincere, when really it was malicious. The Heavy’s form was beginning to itch and he had nothing to scratch it with, he squirmed and whimpered, closing his eyes tightly as he shook his head.

“Please..scratch.”

He begged, pleading as he felt the nub of that bottle against his mouth. His lips loose he had no choice but to take it in, the Sniper squeezed the bottle, causing some of his piss to squirt down the Heavy’s throat, who coughed and spluttered before growling angrily around the bottle. 

“Go on, give it a good suck, pretend it’s a nice little cock.”

The Australian laughed, forcing the entire nub of the bottle into the Heavy’s mouth.

“If you be a good boy and drink up, I’ll itch you, how about that?”

Suggested the Medic, who watched as the limbless giant squirmed and howled in discomfort and frustration, he had no choice but to wrap his lips around the bottle, suckling obediently as he gulped the disgusting sour piss down his throat. He blinked back, his bottom lip quivering as he closed his eyes tightly, fighting tears, he would not cry, he would not submit! When the bottle was empty the Sniper lifted it up, the deranged Australian was always difficult to read but he did seem genuinely impressed that the giant had managed the entire bottle without puking. 

“You will live only on the fluid I give you, boy. You better sure as hell beg for it.”

The Sniper sneered, lifting his form and watching as the Medic lifted the limbless Giant’s buttocks, pushing another diaper beneath him and beginning to fasten it up over his crotch, the Heavy of course, immediately protested.

“Scratch..please! You said..you said.”

“I lied.”

The Medic said with a gentle smile which was somewhat more unsettling than the Sniper’s deranged sneer, he patted the Heavy’s crotch, he rocked and squirmed, trying to push his itching, irritated skin against anything he could manage, but he was only surrounded by soft, fluffy blankets, which seemed to only intensify the sensation against his flesh. 

“Still think you should just make him piss on the floor.”

“That’s unsanitary.”

The Medic retorted with a frown, stroking the squirming amputee’s inner thigh gently before rising into a stand. 

“Please scratch, please! I beg! Beg you!”

The Heavy pleaded desperately, his entire frame trembling with both discomfort and frustration as he looked up at the Medic, trying desperately to win him over, to convince him to help, but the Doctor only raised his form, turned and stepped out of the cage before disappearing behind the curtain. He’d left the defenceless Heavy with the Sniper, who loomed over him. 

“Where does it itch?”

“All over..please..help me..please, make itch stop!”

He looked up at the Sniper now, a quivering mess as he coughed, urine bubbling in his throat as he shook his head, trying to squirm onto his belly, anything to stop the burning sensation. The diaper rubbed against his skin, only making the discomfort worse. His cheeks flushed in humiliation as he whimpered, watching as the Sniper crouched down beside him, he reached a hand out, inches from the giant’s flesh who began to make more pleading, desperate sounds. 

“Naw, Ma told me never to play with my food.”

He raised his form into a stand, lowering his boot down onto the padded crotch in front of him, applying pressure to the huge Russian’s tiny cock, the giant began to shake his head desperately as the man applied more and more pressure, his eyes bulging as he howled in agony. 

“That help you forget?”

He suggested, lowering his boot before swinging it, kicking the Heavy hard in the crotch who shouted out loudly, his entire form convulsing.

“Sure that did. Now…don’t go anywhere.”

He stepped out of the cage, shutting the door and locking it behind him, he disappeared behind the covers, only to find the Medic was standing over the Blu Scout, who was chained by his neck to the wall. The boy still had all his limbs.

“He has a foul mouth.”

The Medic spoke, looking down at the boy, whose naked body was covered in bruises and cuts, his mouth was gagged with a wide surgical gag.

“Best I sort that out then.”

Said the Sniper, as he unzipped his pants.


End file.
